


Keep It Sizzlin'

by PsychicPineapple



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Little bit of smut, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:12:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1388926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychicPineapple/pseuds/PsychicPineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a promt by Finnicko</p><p>In desperation, Derek and Stiles resort to using bacon-flavored lube. There are some unforeseen and mortifying consequences.</p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>  <i>At some point in the hazy, sweaty, mind-blowingly hot sex session of the night before, his brain had forged a rock solid neural connection between bacon and arousal. Which is why Stiles was sitting in a diner booth, across from his father, sporting a rapidly swelling erection. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep It Sizzlin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [finnicko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/finnicko/gifts).



> So one day Katie said 
> 
> aaaand here we are. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, just for fun. If you see any glaring errors, feel free to point them out. If you like it, comments and kudos are very much appreciated! Enjoy :)

Stiles moaned into Derek’s mouth, clutching at his broad shoulders. They were in Stiles’ room, entwined underneath the covers on his bed. It was a chilly night, but beneath the sheets it was almost stiflingly hot, their skin slick with sweat as they moved against one another.

 

‘God, Derek,’ Stiles murmured, kissing his way down Derek’s neck and lapping at the dip of his collarbone, ‘need you.’

 

‘You’ve got me,’ Derek replied, and Stiles could feel the smirk pressed into the top of his head. He ran his fingers along Derek’s ribs, light enough to tickle, as punishment.

 

‘You know what I mean, asshole,’ he said with affectionate annoyance as Derek squirmed away from his fingertips. He surged up to press his lips to Derek’s ear, letting his teeth graze the delicate shell as he whispered, ‘I need you to fuck me.’

 

‘Yeah,’ Derek panted, all playfulness gone from his voice and replaced with white-hot want. Stiles smirked; the ears did it every time. They kissed frantically, messily, and Stiles was vaguely aware of the sound of his bedside drawer being pulled open, Derek’s hand blindly searching inside.

 

Suddenly Derek froze and Stiles pulled back, confused.

 

‘Stiles.’

 

‘What?’ Stiles looked up, ‘why’d you stop?’ Derek’s hair was a mess, left disheveled from Stiles’ fingers running through it, clutching and pulling at the dark locks. His brow was furrowed, and beneath it his eyes were stormy. In his hand he held – ‘crap,’ Stiles huffed, dropping his head on to Derek’s chest.

 

The bottle of lube was empty. It had, in fact, been rolled from the end to squeeze out every last drop, and now was just a flat, coiled, tube of nothing.

 

‘It was your turn!’ Derek growled, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. ‘Just yesterday you called me and asked if I needed anything from the store, and I _specifically_ told you we needed more lube.’

 

‘I’m sorry, okay! I spaced out.’ He sighed, feeling the atmosphere leaking away the longer they lay there. He thought hard. ‘Wait!’ He yelled triumphantly. ‘Wait, all is not lost.’ He slid out of bed, shivering in the cold night air. Kneeling, he reached under the bed and fished out a box. Derek sat up to watch, leaning on one elbow, as Stiles flipped off the lid and began to rummage inside.

 

‘What’s that?’ Derek enquired, curious.

 

‘Crap, mostly,’ Stiles replied absently, digging through the scraps of paper and assorted oddments he’d accumulated over the years. ‘But I think…aha!’

 

Derek flinched as a small cardboard box hit him in the chest. He peered at it in the dim light as Stiles dove back under the covers and into the warmth. ‘You’re kidding me,’ Derek groaned, ‘ _bacon flavored lube_?’

 

‘Keeps it sizzlin’,’ Stiles replied, grinning. ‘See, says right there on the box.’

 

Derek hissed as Stiles pressed his cold feet into his shins. He shoved him away gently, but let his hand linger in a caress. ‘Why the hell do you even own this?’

 

‘It was a gag gift from Scott, for my birthday. Last year I got dick-shaped cookie cutters.’

 

Derek snorted, ‘so much class.’

 

‘Come on,’ Stiles dragged out the words in a childish whine, ‘are you gonna make fun of me or put your dick in me?’

 

‘Both,’ Derek decided, rolling over until he was straddling Stiles. He opened the box, pulling out the lube while Stiles rubbed them both with his talented hands, bringing them back to full hardness. Derek screwed the lid off the tube, squeezing a bead of the lube onto his fingers, testing the consistency. He was surprised by the strong – and accurate – smell of bacon that rose almost immediately from the clear liquid. ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ he shook his head, even as he lowered his hand to spread the lube along his shaft.

 

‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ Stiles intoned absently, his eyes locked on Derek’s hand as he prepared himself. ‘Wait, I just gotta…’ he trailed off, straining his neck forward. Derek arched up to meet him halfway, sighing as Stiles’ tongue slid against the head of his cock. ‘Holy crap,’ Stiles’ eyebrows rose in surprise, ‘it tastes exactly like bacon; this is awesome.’

 

Derek was prevented from replying by Stiles enthusiastically closing his lips around his cock, but he was forced to concede that bacon flavored lube wasn’t exactly the worst thing in the world.

 

**

 

The next morning, Stiles woke Derek with a gentle kiss to the lips and a firm prod to the ribs. ‘Come on, get up,’ he cajoled. ‘We’re meeting my Dad at the diner for breakfast.’

 

‘Nguh,’ Derek replied, mashing his face into the pillow.

 

**

 

It was Sunday morning, and the brightly lit diner was full to bursting with elderly couples, young families and the occasional hung-over teen. There was a twenty-minute wait for walk-ins, but the Stilinskis had a standing reservation in a four seater booth by the window. It had been one of Stiles’ father’s very few and mostly reasonable conditions when he and Derek started dating - a meal together once a week. Since the Sheriff got stuck with the night shift on Saturdays more often than not, breakfast seemed like a good idea. They met up to eat, and then the Sheriff went home to an empty house to sleep while Derek and Stiles went about their day. At first it had been awkward, full of tense silences and mumbled small talk, but now that was almost all gone. Stiles had actually started looking to Sunday morning with anticipation, rather than dread.

 

His Dad was already in their booth, idly playing with his wedding band as he leant over a steaming cup of black coffee.

 

‘Yo, pops,’ Stiles greeted as Derek slid into the seat opposite the Sheriff. Stiles dropped down next to him, pressing their legs together beneath the table.

 

‘Morning, boys.’

 

‘How was the night shift?’ Derek asked conversationally as he thumbed through the menu, even though they all knew he’d be getting bacon and eggs over-easy with a side of hash brows and a stack of pancakes. Stiles smiled at him fondly.

 

They chattered easily, talking about the goings on at the Sheriff’s station and exchanging local gossip until they placed their orders. Stiles listened to Derek and his Father discuss the camping show that would be in town next weekend, his fingers idly drawing patters on Derek’s thigh. He felt utterly content. He sighed deeply, taking in the scents of the diner around him when –

 

_A flash of skin, the rhythmic bunching of Derek’s muscular torso as he slammed into Stiles again and again and_

 

\- ‘oh god,’ Stiles blurted. The Sheriff narrowed his eyes in confusion, and Derek gently took his hand under the table.

 

‘You okay?’

 

‘Yeah, I just remembered something that I had to do, that I’d forgotten. Until just now. When I remembered it.’ He clenched his teeth to cut off his rambling. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself down, when –

 

 _Derek was groaning, carding one hand through Stiles’ hair as he sucked on Derek’s cock, taste buds tingling with the bizarre but frankly_ awesome _combination of pre-come and bacon_

_\- God damn this bacon-scented hellhole,_ Stiles thought frantically, because, yup, that was the problem. At some point in the hazy, sweaty, mind-blowingly hot sex session of the night before, his brain had forged a rock solid neural connection between bacon and arousal. Which is why Stiles was sitting in a diner booth, across from his father, sporting a rapidly swelling erection.

 

He could see Derek shooting him worried glances from the corner of his eye, probably in response to his thundering heartbeat. Usually when something like this happened, Stiles took a few deep breaths and thought of something unappealing to distract him; but every breath he took smelled like bacon, and all other thoughts were pushed aside to make way for a sizzling hightlights reel from the night before.

 

 _It’s okay,_ he comforted himself as their waitress set down their food, _you’re okay. Just eat breakfast like everything’s totally normal, and then when Dad leaves you can tell Derek, he’ll make a couple of shitty jokes, and then you can go. Hell,_ he thought brightly, _you might even get a handjob in the bathroom out of this_. The thought cheered him considerably, so he settled in to enjoy his breakfast when he felt Derek nudging him gently.

 

‘Move, I need to use the bathroom.’

 

‘Uh, can’t you hold it?’ Stiles shot back, gripping the table.

 

Derek frowned and looked at Stiles like he was crazy. ‘I can. Not sure why I would, though. Come on, move.’

 

‘No,’ he gripped tighter, ‘the food just got here. Hold it, Derek.’

 

‘You’re being weird,’ Derek observed.

 

‘Your face is weird,’ Stiles rebutted, grasping.

 

‘Okay, had about enough of this,’ Derek said with finality. Using his superior strength, he pushed Stiles out of the vinyl booth, his shoes squeaking uselessly on the linoleum floor as they fought for purchase.

 

‘Derek, no, wait, stop, _stop_ ,’ at the last second he snatched a menu from the table, holding it in front of himself to protect his modesty, but that was – if possible – even more obvious. Derek blinked up at him, and his father turned away so fast Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if he had whiplash.

 

‘Stiles,’ he groaned, as though the name physically pained him, ‘over breakfast? Really?’ He gave Derek a sharp look, ‘was there funny business under the table?’

 

‘No!’ Derek practically yelped, raising his hands to eye level so fast is was as though the Sheriff had pulled a gun on him.

 

‘God, no, Dad of course not.’ Stiles was mortified. The good thing was all the blood rushing to his face was starting to deflate his erection. ‘Ohh, this is horrifying,’ he mumbled.

 

‘You know,’ the Sheriff said, sliding out of the booth with his plate, ‘I think I’m just gonna get this to go.’

 

‘No, Dad we weren’t –‘

 

‘Sir, I _swear,_ we’d never - ’

 

The Sheriff’s eyes were twinkling with amusement as he turned back to look at them. ‘I’m sure you boys don’t mind picking up the bill.’

 

Stiles quickly dropped into his vacated seat, sliding as low as he could. ‘You couldn’t have held it for ten minutes?’ He sniped at Derek, who was looking back at him with an infuriatingly amused expression.

 

‘It was the bacon lube, wasn’t it?’ He asked smugly, and Stiles threw his hands up in the air.

 

‘Yes! Okay? It was the worst idea in the world, and I’m going to punch Scott in his stupid face next time I see him.’  He picked at his nails, pouting petulantly in embarrassment.

 

‘Come on,’ Derek said gently, ‘it wasn’t all bad.’ Stiles felt Derek’s foot nudging his beneath the table, and couldn’t stop a small smile from breaking through his stormy expression.

 

‘True,’ he admitted, glancing up at Derek.

 

‘I really do have to go to the bathroom,’ Derek said, ‘but then do you want to go back to my place?’

 

‘Sure,’ Stiles agreed, ‘I’ve just got to do something first. Excuse me, Miss?’ He flagged down a waitress, smiling politely as she approached their table. ‘Hi, could I get ten sides of bacon to go, please?’

 

‘Sure thing, sweetie,’ she chirped, scribbling down the order.

 

‘Big plans?’ Derek enquired casually, raising an eyebrow.

 

‘Yup,’ Stiles nodded, popping the ‘p’. ‘I’m going to eat so much bacon that I puke, and never, ever associate with anything remotely sexy _ever_ again.’

 

‘You’re a genius,’ Derek smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips as he passed.

 

 

  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Comments and kudos are my lifeblood.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at tylergoddamnposey.tumblr.com
> 
> Have a great day :)


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